Emergency Room
by InvisibleMeatball
Summary: After a mysterious accident that I eventually explain, Sam breaks her arm during a Halloween party. Freddie has to drive her to the hospital. Spencer's unconscious in the back. In short, it's going to be a long drive. Sam and Freddie friendship.


"I hate you," she spat at him bitterly, trying to unlock the car door and failing miserably.

"That's nice," he replied grimly. She was the one who had jammed the passenger door lock anyway, by accident while trying to break into his car. He was suddenly glad she had.

"It doesn't even hurt!" Sam yelled, thrusting her left arm in his face and flinching at the movement, despite her words. He winced at the abnormal bulge protruding from her elbow, where the broken bone was poking.

"It's broken, Sam," he said in the same monotonous voice, putting the car into reverse and backing out of his spot in Bushwell's parking lot.

"That doesn't mean we have to go the motherfu-"

"Sam-"

"-dging, motherfudging hospital, you happy?!" she censored unwillingly. "The hospital is for people who can't take pain! The hospital is for wimps! For nubs! For you! Besides, it costs money there! GOD!" she screamed, pretending she was being so loud out of annoyance instead of pain.

Freddie sighed. "Spencer will probably pay your bill, and if he doesn't, I will, just to shut you the hell up," he muttered. As he merged onto the main road a pair of headlights flashed into their faces, and he jumped, catching sight of her face as she glared. Her favorite holiday, Halloween, had hit, and she was costumed as a ghoul. She had used up a whole black eyeliner pencil around her eyes and dark red blush and lipstick. Her hair was matted and brushed to look unbrushed, while she wore a torn, silk grey-white dress and high-tops.

She was one scary motherfudger.

"Like I want your pity money," Sam scoffed.

Spencer groaned from the backseat, still unconscious.

"Is he alright?" Freddie asked, glancing in the rearview mirror.

Sam turned around and promptly shrieked as she bumped her arm against the seat. "NICE GOING, JACKASS!" She nursed her arm carefully.

"I'm sorry, God!" he yelled, and changed lanes. "So you admit it hurts?!"

"YES, I AM IN PAIN, FREDDIE!" Sam screamed right in his ear. "IS THAT WHAT YOU WANTED? WELL, GOOD, IT'S NICE TO KNOW MY ARM'S ABOUT TO DIE AND ALL YOU WANT TO DO IS MAKE SURE I'M IN PAIN!"

He wished Carly had her driver's license and had driven Spencer and Sam to the Emergency Room instead, while he stayed behind and partied with the rest of their class back in Apartment 8C.

"First," he tried to say calmly, "I don't want you in pain, Sam, you know that, because when you're in pain, you take it out on me, as you just kindly displayed to my eardrums. Second, your arm is not dying. It's just broken."

Sam ignored him and turned abruptly towards the window.

Spencer moaned some more and Freddie hoped he wasn't getting blood on his car seats.

"I hate you," she gurgled after another minute. He knew she was crying, but desperately trying to hide it.

"You mentioned that."

"I mean it," she said as stonily as she could while sobbing. "You don't…MMM-" she muffled a scream in her good arm- "You don't care about me at all."

"Sam," Freddie sighed and rolled his eyes, turning on the exit to the freeway.

"And you're… always treating me… like an idiot," she continued, "with thaaaa…AAH-" The word morphed into a cry of pain. "That, that voice! You're all, 'that's nice,' 'you mentioned that,' 'it's broken, Sam,' 'Sam,' 'Sam,'" the blonde did a wonderful job of impersonating him, which just made him fume more. "I'm not a goddamned idiot, I know it's broken, would you SHUT, UP!"

He took a deep breath. "I'm not trying to treat you like an-"

"STOP!" Sam screamed, turning to face him while holding her arm cautiously with the other. "JUST SHUT UP!"

Spencer lifted his head groggily. "Wha…"

"You and Sam were pelting crepes at people from the rafters of the apartment, Gibby threw one back, and you both fell," Freddie filled him in. "The giant trampoline we had set up broke your fall, but Sam bounced off and broke her arm. And we're pretty sure you dislocated your ankle. We're going to the hospital."

"Oh… sounds good, Natayla, but I much prefer the chocolate sauce," Spencer rested his head back on the makeshift pillow made of Freddie's jacket and fell asleep.

It was quiet, except for Sam's heavy breathing and random cries of pain.

After perfecting his speech in his head the brunette cleared his throat. "I do care about you," he began more timidly than he would have liked to. "I mean, why do think I told you so many times not to climb on the rafters?"

She ignored him.

"And sorry if I'm driving you crazy with all my… quiet straightforwardness, but it's just how I deal with this kind of stuff…" He spotted the sign for the hospital and turned onto the exit quickly. "I mean, if I were Carly I'd be freaking out right now and making sure you're as comfortable as possible and going four times over the speed limit."

"Fredward," Sam said.

"Yeah?"

"Do you think I'll scare the doctor shitless?" She hiccupped.

"What..." He wasn't expecting that.

She was still crying, and still obviously in pain, but she had made an effort to calm down, too. "I mean," she sniffled, "I looked scary-ass to… begin with… ow, but now my make-up's streaked and… I look like… shit…" Sam looked up at him in all seriousness, her nose swollen and red.

The brunette tried to keep his eyes on the road, keeping an eye out for the entrance to the ER parking lot. "Sure, ignore me while I pour out my heart," he mumbled.

Freddie pulled into a parking space, opened the door, and helped Sam crawl over the seat, carefully avoiding her broken arm. They stared through the car door at Spencer for a minute, who giggled in his sleep and muttered something about 'that tickles, Natayla, stop!'

Sam voiced something about not wanting to know what he was dreaming about.

"Uh, I don't think I can carry him," Freddie said.

Sam wiped her eyes, opened the backseat door, and prodded Spencer with her Converse-clad foot. He didn't budge.

After much prodding and tugging, Freddie and Sam's good arm dragged the grown man into the waiting room, letting him fall onto a chair.

As they sat in the uncomfortable chairs, Sam rolled her eyes to herself and turned to Freddie.

"I… I care about you, too," she muttered grudgingly, putting her left hand gingerly on his arm. It sent jolts of pain up her arm and she hissed, lifting it away.

His head snapped up as he woke up from a light doze. "Wha?"

"I care about you, too," she repeated, glaring at him.

Freddie smiled tiredly. "Well, you better," he said. "I'm in the ER with you at 1:30 in the morning."

The blonde scowled at the fact that she technically owed him.

He closed his eyes again and wondered how he was going to explain the hospital bill to his mom.

--

**this idea came to me while half-listening to meg & dia and half watching that new disney channel show tonight with bridget msomething, where jason dolley's driving his "dad" to the hospital. the writing-obsessed part of me immediately started wondering what it's like to drive someone to the hospital while they're clearly in pain, thus a one-shot started, and i figured it'd go good with sam and freddo. so here we are. **

…**i'm going to go listen to the hellogoodbye songs i just bought, because i'm awesome like that. :D _& i know...it is love...from the first...time I pressed my lips against yoursssss...thinking oh, it is loveee._**

**kbye.**


End file.
